


Kingdom Come

by nyoka



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-06
Updated: 2013-10-06
Packaged: 2017-12-28 14:02:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/992804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyoka/pseuds/nyoka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sleep comes easily these days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kingdom Come

**Author's Note:**

> For Indee. Originally posted [here](http://nyokafic.tumblr.com/post/50496733172/fic-kingdom-come-dean-cas).

*

It’s just getting light out, not more than a few minutes past daybreak, and Cas is running his fingers across Dean’s back, little movements that feel like a soft brush of electricity across Dean’s sensitive skin.

They’re naked and wrapped around each other in the backseat of the Impala, Dean settled between Castiel’s legs, his head on Castiel’s chest, and his arms curled around the fallen angel’s waist. They’ve been here all night, and the Impala carries their mingled scent – sweat, spunk, gun oil, and warm leather. Dean knows the car will smell like them for days to come. He smiles just thinking about Sam’s impending reaction.

The windows are cracked now to let in some cool air, and the morning birdsong slips in too, hunted by the far-off cries of the things living and dying in the woods of the Ouachita National Forest.

"Dean, are you awake?" Cas asks, his voice soft and low as his hands run along Dean’s spine.

"No," Dean mumbles and breathes deeply as he nuzzles further into Castiel’s chest.

"Are you sure?"

"Cas."

"Yes?"

“ _Dude_.”

Castiel’s hand settles in the dip of Dean’s spine, warm and protective. “You do _seem_ to be awake.” His fingers slip lower, teasing, tempting, brushing against the hill of Dean’s asscheeks.

"M’not awake," Dean mumbles, squirms, and rocks his hips forward so that his cock nudges against Castiel’s thigh, his morning wood begging for the other man’s attention.

Dean tilts his face to look up at Castiel, and Cas, _the rat bastard_ , is looking way too awake and way too innocent for this time of the day, his face ruddy and morning beautiful, dark hair tousled and perfectly sex-ruffled. The morning light is a cool trickle through the forest, spilling softly through the car window, a golden-baked amber painting Castiel’s skin. Here, naked and alone in the Impala, they’re a million miles from anywhere really; the stars they came out last night to watch are long gone, faded into a periwinkle and blue sky.

"What can I do to wake you up, then?" Castiel asks. His lips quirk as he gazes down at Dean, and his fingers continue their downward slide, skimming the delicate span of stretched skin along the cleft of Dean’s ass.

"You’re an ass," Dean huffs with a smirk, rocking his hips softly forward again as Castiel’s hand continues to migrate, lower and lower.

"Mmmhmm," Cas says, his hand slipping further down Dean’s backside, settling on the globe of one of Dean’s asscheeks, and squeezing the firm flesh. "You were saying?" Castiel asks as a frisson of excitement and heat pull at Dean’s groin.

Dean grunts his response, pushes himself up on his elbow and moves his face forward to close the distance between their mouths. The first brush of Castiel’s lips on his lips makes Dean ache, lean in for more, and all he can think is: _wantyouwantyou_. Cas is welcoming and dream-soft, his mouth warm and wet against Dean’s own. Outside, Dean knows, the world must be as damp and warm as their kisses, but inside the car Cas has a taste, a feel, like the river, like the wind, like the sky after the storm has passed.

Castiel’s lips are wide and smooth, and the slick-wet of Castiel’s cock slides hot across Dean’s belly. Cas kisses him like he means it, all sharp teeth and seeking tongue, not shy at all, not afraid to lead, to take, to give Dean everything he’s asking for. Castiel’s stubble scrapes over Dean’s like sand over rock, and his teeth drag over Dean’s chin, nipping gently. Cas even takes the time to kiss the wrinkles at the corner of Dean’s eyes and the lazy pattern of freckles covering Dean’s cheek and shoulder, worshipping them like they’re something that he loves, something worthy of his time. Dean laughs, twisting away because it tickles, and it’s kind of embarrassing to admit how much he likes when Cas gets off on kissing his freckles, so he reaches up to cup Castiel’s face in his hands and kiss his mouth again.

Sometimes Dean will close his eyes and marvel at the fact that Cas is _still_ here. That Cas is his best friend, that Cas is someone he trusts, that Cas is someone he maybe loves (kind of a lot). He will wonder how this is even possible, when everyone else he’s ever loved, he’s lost. But then he opens his eyes, and they’re still here, together, cocooned in the backseat of the only home Dean’s even known, and it smells like them, and Cas is kissing him on his cheek, on the bridge of his nose, on his eyelids, on his forehead, and lastly on the pulse point on the side of Dean’s neck before taking Dean’s mouth again.

Dean spends a long time sucking on Castiel’s tongue, only letting it go to whisper, “Still mad at you for waking me up.”

Cas squeezes his ass tight in response. “Are you?” he asks, smirking slowly against Dean’s mouth.

"You fight dirty," Dean says on a whisper, smiling into another kiss, heart clenching at the feel of Castiel’s squeezing touch.

"I’m a soldier, Dean. I fight to win," Cas murmurs back, his heavy breaths falling between bites at Dean’s lips. He winds his fingers through Dean’s hair, settling them along the back of Dean’s neck, the ridge of his collarbone.

They kiss again because they both like it, tongues and lips caressing, kisses that go deep and long, that say the things they’ve never figured out how to say with words. When they pull away, Dean closes his eyes, and he nuzzles his face against Castiel’s neck. He lets his hands wander, feeling the warm texture of Castiel’s skin and lax muscles. Castiel’s legs curl around Dean’s waist, and Dean slides his rough palms up and down Castiel’s thighs, pushing against the grain of Castiel’s dark leg hair, before settling his hand on the curve of his friend’s hips.

They twist and turn in the seat, and Castiel uses his strong hands to adjust their naked bodies until their angles line up just right. Castiel’s legs open and Dean falls forward, letting their cocks rub against their bellies as they meet each other in slow thrust after thrust, their movements languid, creating a soft-perfect friction.

Dean’s cock throbs hotly against Castiel’s own with each pump of his hips, and Cas is making these noises, soft, indistinct sounds, spreading his thighs wider to let Dean fill the space between them with his body as his legs curl around to frame Dean’s hips. They find a good rhythm quickly, hips canting perfectly, the both of them wide-eyed and fully awake now as they ride the sensations, filling the car with quiet whimpers and soft moans.

"Only you, Cas," Dean whispers as Castiel finds Dean’s cock, jacks him off fast and hard, and before Dean knows it, he’s coming into Castiel’s safe, perfect hold without a moment’s warning, everything rolling so fast inside of him. He slams down into Castiel just as Castiel slams up into him. They rock together, hands everywhere, mouths meeting and clinging. Their eyes lock, and they are able to watch each other lose control in that moment, watch each other break apart.

With a loud groan, Cas thrusts up into Dean’s body, falling forward as Dean catches him, and a liquid warmth splatters between them, sliding slick and sticky across their bellies. Dean teethes at the thin skin of Castiel’s neck, pressing a tender kiss behind his ear, while Castiel’s hands settle across Dean’s hips, his thumbs kneading deep down into the muscle.

Dean hums and murmurs his pleasure, seeking out Castiel’s mouth again. They exchange tongue swipes between shaky breaths, and their hands explore each other in restless fascination, their cocks soft, but still slip-fitting together just right.

They’re kind of dirty now, and they laugh at the mess they’ve made of each other, exchanging a series of quiet, warm chuckles before they towel off and shift to their sides so that they can curl up in the backseat in a way that’s not too uncomfortable. Dean finds a blanket and covers them with it, and then he finds himself being pulled against Castiel’s chest, spooned from behind by his best friend’s careful maneuvering.

Cas places a series of kisses against the nape of his neck. His spent cock is pressed, warm and snug, against the cleft of Dean’s ass, and his hands settle low on Dean’s belly. Dean smiles, feeling a current of cool morning air sweep up their bodies.

Sleep comes easily these days.

-fin-


End file.
